Chapter Eleven
Anson
T he sun is high, the sand is hot, and the volleyball is soaring through the air as I dive for it, arms outstretched. My palms connect, and I send it flying over the net just in time. Parker yells something about me being a show-off, but Sebastian slams the ball back before I can even gloat.
Game on.
I absolutely love days like this. It seems like they are becoming rarer as we grow older. Our carefree beach days from adolescence have been replaced by jobs and family responsibilities. So, when we finally have a free Saturday to come together and just enjoy the afternoon in the sun and play in the waves, we make the most of it.
We’ve been at it for nearly an hour, shirts off, sweat dripping, the sand clinging to our skin. Parker, Sebastian, Lennon, and me against a rotating mix of whoever wants to get destroyed. We’ve been playing together since we could walk. We don’t lose. That’s the unspoken rule.
A group of girls has gathered on the sidelines, watching, cheering, giggling every time one of us makes a play. We’re used to it. This is how things go—tourists come to the island, looking for sun, fun, and maybe a little dalliance. And that last one? That used to be my specialty.
Used to be.
I love women. They come in so many shapes, sizes, and personalities, and I’ve made it my mission to appreciate them all—from the silly to the seriously intense. I admire smart women, funny women, shy ones, and those with a sharp tongue. I simply like them just the way they are.
I’ve never given much thought to anything beyond the thrill of meeting someone for the first time—the excitement of the first kiss and the first touch. Maybe it’s because I live in a tourist town, where a variety of beautiful faces comes and goes with each season. They breeze in and out, and I’ve always enjoyed that. But lately, I’ve found myself thinking more about the future and what I truly want out of life. I blame these guys. They went and found awesome women, fell in love, and are starting to make babies and build homes. Assholes.
I steal a quick glance at the girls stretched out on their towels nearby. Avie, Audrey, Amiya, and Heather—Audrey’s friend—are watching us, too, although they’re pretending they aren’t. They’re wearing sunglasses, but I can feel their judgment as our fans get louder. Meanwhile, Leia—Sebastian and Avie’s daughter—is playing with a bucket in the sand nearby.
Sebastian sets the ball high, and Parker spikes it down hard, sealing the win. The group of girls watching erupts in cheers, calling out my name.
Have I hooked up with one of them before?
I just shake my head, brushing sand off my chest as I walk over to grab my water bottle.
“Nice one, Anson!” one of them shouts, blonde and bronzed, flashing a dazzling smile.
Yep, definitely hooked up with her.
I nod politely, but don’t engage. I already know how this plays out. A little flirting, a little drinking, a night that doesn’t mean anything, and I’m not interested tonight.
And that’s weird.
“Well, well, well,” Amiya says as I approach, her voice dripping with amusement. “Who are you, and what have you done with Anson?”
I sigh, chugging some water before wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. “What’s that?”
Audrey tilts her head. “You just walked away from an entire group of girls throwing themselves at you.”
Heather chimes in, “Seriously. I was expecting at least one wink. Maybe a, Hey, sweetheart .” She deepens her voice to a cross between a wiseguy and an Italian Lothario.
I roll my eyes, dropping onto the sand. “I don’t sound like that,” I snap. “Maybe I’m just here to play volleyball.”
Amiya barks out a laugh. “Yeah, okay.” She adjusts her sunglasses. “You live for this kind of attention. What gives?”
I shrug, staring out at the waves. “Not interested.”
Parker flops down next to me, grinning. “Oh, he’s interested in someone all right.”
I shoot him a look. “Shut up.”
Sebastian smirks. “You might as well tell them. They’re gonna get it out of you either way.”
Lennon scoops Leia into his arms. “Come on, monkey. We don’t need to hear about Uncle Anson’s love life,” he says before jogging to the surf and tossing her into a wave as she giggles.
The girls lean in, sensing blood in the water.
Heather props herself up on her elbows. “Wait. Who?”
Amiya narrows her eyes. “No way. Are you actually into someone?”
I shake my head, but Sebastian just grins wider. “You guys don’t know her. Yet.”
Heather perks up. “Yet?”
Parker stretches his arms behind his head, clearly enjoying this. “Her name’s Tabby. She lives in an RV at the campground.”
I groan. “Seriously?”
Audrey sits up, gaping at me. “Hold on. The mysterious girl in the RV? That’s the one?”
Amiya’s eyes light up. “What mystery girl? I haven’t heard about any mystery girl.”
“Parker told me a little. Very little,” Audrey says, cutting her eyes to him.
I exhale slowly, realizing there’s no getting out of this.
“She’s just a friend,” I say, knowing full well how weak that sounds.
Amiya smacks my arm. “Oh, shut up. You don’t ignore a group of hot, half-naked women for a friend.”
Heather laughs. “I mean, unless you suddenly decided to take a vow of celibacy or something.”
Parker snorts. “Yeah, that’s not it.”
Sebastian leans forward, elbows on his knees. “Now, ladies, don’t give him too much of a hard time. It’s different with her.”
I pick up a fistful of sand, letting some of it slip through my fingers before flinging it at him.
“Hey, fucker. That went in my eye.”
“Stop trying to deflect. Is it different with her?” Amiya asks.
“Yeah,” I admit, my voice quieter than before, “it is.”
The girls exchange glances, something unspoken passing between them.
Audrey nudges me with her foot. “Is this the girl you were texting the other night?”
All their eyes go to her.
“The three of us were watching a movie, and his phone started going off like fireworks. He was laser-focused on the screen. Laughing. Sighing. It was adorable,” Audrey tells them.
“Whatever,” I mumble.
“Well, was it her?” Avie asks.
I roll my eyes as I look at them. They’re all intently focused.
“Yes, it was her.”
“Now, I really need to meet her,” Heather says.
Amiya nods. “Same. We need to see what kind of woman has Anson Leggett choosing late-night texting over late-night hookups.”
I run a hand through my hair, shaking my head. “She’s not—I don’t think she does the whole friend group thing. She’s been on her own for a while, and she seems to enjoy her solitude.”
Amiya smirks and looks at the others. “That’s cute. He thinks we’re giving him a choice.”
Avie looks at me thoughtfully. “Maybe she just hasn’t had the chance to make many friends. Text her now. See if she wants to join us for dinner and cocktails at our house later. Sebastian is going to barbeque.”
“Probably not on such short notice,” I say.
“It sounds like you’re trying to hog her all to yourself,” Amiya accuses.
She gives me a look—one that says they aren’t going to drop this.
“Fine,” I say, pulling my phone from my pocket. I type out a quick text, asking if she’d like to meet us for dinner.
Sebastian claps a hand on my shoulder. “Better start preparing her, man. The girls are coming for her.”
I look out at the ocean, breathing in the salty air.
Just great.
Tabby doesn’t know it yet, but her world is about to get a lot louder.